Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Good Evening

I really ought to check my schedules more often, as I was given the blog today and completely forgot. I blame it on over-scheduling, I do.

In any case, seeing as The Hanged Man's Ghost is upcoming for February, I shall treat you all to a teaser.



To be thorough, once we got back to Jack’s apartment and sent Shannon on her way (after supper), I retrieved my newest asset. A deck of cards. These weren’t tarot cards like Amanda had used, but regular playing cards. They were old, dirty, and I’d picked them up for a dime at a thrift store in South Hollow.
Tarot cards felt too…preposterous. I could read the playing cards just as well as the tarot cards and they didn’t make me feel like a gypsy.
"What are you doing?" Jack asked, cleaning up the dishes while Tara played in her room.
"I’m trying to confirm Voight’s story."
"With playing cards?"
"Fortunetelling," I said, "is an ancient art. Well respected."
"Uh-huh. So, mighty fortuneteller, what do the cards say?"
"They say…you are in great danger." I made a spooky sort of noise. "And that your meat was under-seasoned."
"Oh really?"
"Really." Truthfully, I was certain the cards were confirming Voight’s tale. The Jack of Spades (Eustace) was being overpowered by the Jack of Clubs (definitely Voight) while the Jack of Diamonds was stuck in a maze built of spades, clubs and hearts.
Yeah, I had no idea who the Jack of Diamonds represented, not at all.
Jack slipped out of the kitchen and to me, slipping his arms over my shoulders and peering down at the table. "That’s a mess."
"I know."
"I can tell you your future better than those cards can."
"Oh really?"
His lips brushed over my neck with obvious intent. "Really." His voice went slightly husky, and it felt like electricity ran over my skin. "Let me put Tara to bed and then…I’ll put you to bed."
If that wasn’t enough to make a man’s knees weak, I wasn’t sure what was.
"You are a bad man," I whispered back.
"Let me prove it to you."
He moved off to put Tara to bed, and I exhaled loudly. This was going to be an evening. I gathered up the cards and put them away while Jack put Tara to bed.
When he came back into the living room, he pulled me out of my chair and into the bedroom.
"I thought you were straight," I protested softly as he pushed me onto the bed.
"I was married, there’s a difference."
"Oh really?"
He leaned over me, knee on the bed. "Really. Fynn, just because I’m attracted to someone, doesn’t mean I have to show it. I was married, and I don’t have it in me to cheat…no matter how much I wanted to."
That was information I wasn’t sure what to do with. But Jack certainly knew what he was doing. He pushed me down with one hand, climbing up on top of me with that feral grin that set my heart racing.
"And I wanted to, Fynn."
He pressed his lips against mine, and I closed my eyes for just a moment. "Jack."
"Yeah?" his hands trailed down my stomach, lifting up my shirt.
"I love you."
"I know." He smiled. "I heard you the first time."
"You…heard?"
"Yeah. I should’ve said it then."
"Said what?"
"I love you, too."
With that established, I found it in myself to lean up, and kiss him. This man, this amazing, brave man…he was all mine and I was all his.
It was about damn time.


And that's the end. If you want to read more of Fynn and Jack's exploits, you'll have to pick up a copy when it comes out. And for those curious yes, that is the same Fynn from Fiends in Low Places.

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